


Carry This Weight

by emynn (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry This Weight

_**Fic: Carry This Weight**_  
 **Title:** Carry This Weight  
 **Author:** [](http://emynn.insanejournal.com/profile)[**emynn**](http://emynn.insanejournal.com/)  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Summary:** Harry has a secret.  
 **Word Count:** ~1,500  
 **Warnings:** rather angstier than the rest of these ficlets have been  
 **A/N:** Written for [](http://accioslash.insanejournal.com/profile)[**accioslash**](http://accioslash.insanejournal.com/), who prompted me with Snarry, hoarder. This may or may not inspire me to write an entire TLC-line of Snarry. Not beta read.  
 **Disclaimer:** The characters in the world of HP are, like many other things, not mine.  
  
  
  
It started with Snape’s copy of _Advanced Potion-Making._  
  
Harry had managed to find it in an old second-hand shop in Knockturn Alley and had immediately snatched it up. Inspired, he had then set about finding other objects that had been touched by Snape’s hand. It had taken him a week to acquire his entire collection of cauldrons, a month to obtain the boots he always wore as he stalked the corridors of Hogwarts, and nearly three months to find the broom he had been flying that night George lost an ear.  
  
And then, of course, there was the pièce de résistance, Snape’s diary. Harry had tracked down where Snape lived on Spinner’s End, carefully placed a Memory Charm on the new owner, and managed to find it buried beneath a floorboard in the master bedroom. Harry had never read it, of course. That would be a massive invasion of privacy. But just knowing he had it, just in case … that was a great source of comfort.  
  
It was ridiculous, Harry knew, and likely more than a little unhealthy. It just wasn’t normal to have an entire room dedicated to the castoffs of a single person. It would be one thing if he had stuck to items that may have actually held significance to Snape. But no, he had Snape’s books, socks, calendars, quills, even old essays written by former students that had Snape’s trademark red scrawl all over them. They may have been objects of no consequence, but whenever Harry felt their weight in his hands, he just just _feel_ Snape. It felt too incredible to give up.  
  
Harry felt shame creep up in his throat as he carefully added his most recent find, an hourglass that Snape had kept on his desk in his office, to the least-tottering pile in the small room. He was a hoarder of the worst sort, but once he started gathering his collection, he couldn’t stop.  
  
“Harry? Are you home?”  
  
Harry hurried to slam the door shut and hide the room once more from view, but it was too late.  
  
Severus had seen.  
  
His heart beating painfully against his chest, Harry turned to face Severus. “Hi,” he said weakly.  
  
Severus didn’t say a word, only frowned and opened the door wider so he could look inside. Harry could only watch helplessly as Severus sifted through the souvenirs of his past.  
  
“Severus, let me explain,” Harry pleaded. Not that he could explain. More like he was looking for a chance to convince Severus that he wasn’t entirely mad.  
  
Severus picked up a book from the floor and casually flipped through the pages. “I had wondered where this text was,” he said quietly, as if to himself.  
  
Harry leaned back against the doorframe and silently slid down to the floor. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He had been so discreet, only going off to search for objects when he knew Severus would be away for a while. And of course, he only opened the hidden room, which ordinarily appeared to be a blank wall adorned with a single photograph of them together unless Harry uttered the password, when he was certain he would be alone. But he had grown careless. Severus had hinted that he might try to leave that conference in Belgium early. Harry never should have taken the risk to go after that hourglass, but once Teddy had mentioned he had seen it at Hogwarts, it had been all Harry could think about. _Damn it, damn it, damn it._  
  
The book still in his hand, Severus sat opposite Harry. “I was curious what you had hidden behind this wall.”  
  
Harry’s head shot up. “You knew?”  
  
“Of course I knew,” Severus said. “The magic was practically coming off the wall in waves. Not to mention the way you always refused to look at that photograph when I was here, and seemed to always be in a hurry to pass through this corridor. I’m afraid one doesn’t spend years as a spy without acquiring a few observational skills.”  
  
Harry felt his cheeks burn and buried his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “You can take it all when you leave. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just … could you please not say anything to anybody about it?”  
  
Severus set down his book and placed a hand on Harry’s knee. “I won’t say anything about it, but I’m also not leaving. Now, will you tell me why you have my fifth-year timetable tucked into my Falmouth Falcons shirt?”  
  
Harry sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know how it got to this point. It started out just being a little thing here and there, things that I just happened upon. But then …” He groaned into his hands, miserable. “It just helped having them here.”  
  
Severus gently pulled Harry’s hands away from his face. “Helped what? Surely you don’t have that great of an interest in what I spent my pocket money on in my youth, or the scribbles of an angry teenager.”  
  
“Of course not,” Harry said. He tried to avoid eye contact, but Severus made it impossible. He always knew how to force Harry to confront his own fears. “It’s just … I dream, you know? Every night.”  
  
Severus said nothing, only clutched Harry’s hand, but Harry knew he was aware of his nightmares. They both had them. They had spent many a night together, trembling in each other’s arms after particularly brutal nightly terrors.  
  
“I dream of you dying,” Harry said. That might have been a surprise. They never talked about their dreams. They had an unspoken understanding that some horrors were best left in the subconscious, that bringing them out into the wakened world would only extend the dread and fear. “And then you’re gone, everything's gone, and I have nothing left.” His voice cracked horribly on the last word.  
  
Severus squeezed Harry’s hand. “So you keep all these relics of mine as a way of ensuring you have a piece of me left in case anything should happen?”  
  
Harry nodded mutely, afraid that if he spoke out loud the tears that were filling his eyes would spill over.  
  
“You realise this is entirely unnecessary,” Severus said quietly. “One, in that I have no intention of leaving any time in the near or distant future, and two in that these … these _things_ , Harry, that’s not the important thing I’d hope to leave behind.” He pressed their joined hands up against Harry’s chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. “You have no fear of losing this.”  
  
“I know,” Harry whispered. “I know, Severus. I just …”  
  
“Shh,” Severus said, and tugged Harry towards him so he could hold him close against his chest. Harry let his head sag onto Severus’s shoulder in relief. The tears didn’t fall, not quite, but Harry couldn’t remember ever feeling so broken and at the same time, so safe.  
  
“I won’t ask you to get rid of the room until you're ready,” Severus said, once Harry’s body had stopped shaking. “But I won’t let you hide it anymore.”  
  
Harry nodded. “I’ll stop,” he swore. “I promise. I know it was ridiculous.”  
  
“I had just been thinking I needed to give you more presents,” Severus interjected. “It's been four years of you putting up with me and I daresay you’ve earned a reward.”  
  
“I don’t need a present,” Harry said, confused.  
  
“Then a trinket, perhaps. Something you can hold on to and think of me. Would that do?”  
  
A slow smile crept onto Harry’s face. To be able to have something that was Severus’s, that Severus had looked upon and touched and given to Harry, that Harry would be able to keep and not stow away like a shameful secret … he couldn’t think of anything he would like more.  
  
“Yes,” he said.  
  
“Good,” Severus said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet pouch. “I hadn’t planned on giving this to you today, but I think it might suit our purposes.”  
  
Curious, Harry took the pouch and carefully emptied the contents into his hand. A simple silver band glistened in his palm. “Severus?”  
  
Severus took the ring and held it up to Harry. “Bond with me,” he said. “Be with me always. Until the end of days and beyond.”  
  
Harry nodded, unable to speak, as Severus slipped the ring on his finger. Exhausted but more content than he had felt in ages, he leaned up against Severus, taking comfort in the feeling of strong arms wrapping around him.  
  
In time, he felt, the room would become secondary. The ring on his finger, of course, carried far more significance than any object he had hidden away in there. But he couldn’t quite tamper the hope that one day even the ring would be less important. Of course it would always be an item he cherished, but not because it carried physical weight that Harry could hold and know that Severus had touched it, but because Severus wanted him to have it as a symbol of their love for each other.  
  
A love that was far greater than any cluttered room in their house could ever dream to contain.

* * *  
  
---


End file.
